Notes

Setting: Philadelphia, 1886

 

Samuel hated the sea. Correction. He hated traveling overseas. No amount of traveling would ever convince him otherwise. The slow rock of the waves, the salty smell that stung his nose, and the taunts from the crews he traveled with all were contributing factors. But he traveled regardless because he needed to. After all, the word traveling in a traveling reporter is the whole point of the job. 

 

It was just past noon when the ship arrived at the dock. He got off just in time to catch the train to Philadelphia, his home, and the place where he would make his findings known. 

 

For months, Samuel traveled all over the ever-changing world in search of a story to publish. On the train, he looked over his notes, recalling his adventures in the past year. 

 

His first stop had been in Istanbul. The Ottoman Empire was dying or “sick” as some locals had told him. After Greece had successfully split from the empire in 1821, Serbia was following suit. The various uprisings in the past few years had put tension on the empire. Tension that they were crumbling under. Samuel shifted through his notes and found the word he was looking for: Balkans. It was written in thick ink and circled on his page. He met a few Balkans, as they called themselves, and their need for independence from the empire. They went unacknowledged and this unrest, Samuel thought, would only deepen the wound that the Ottoman Empire already had. 

 

He looked out the window of the train, hills disappeared into thick forests, a sign that he was almost home. Samuel smiled and went back to his notes, which lay messing in his notebook, or rather notebooks. 

 

After Istanbul, he traveled to South Africa. He met with the Xhosa people, who seemed to be very unwelcoming at first. He couldn’t blame them. Years before Samuel had even been born, they slaughtered their cattle in hopes of driving settlers away. In his notebook he found a copy of an old record stating the amount of cattle killed. 400,000 The man he spoke too recalled his childhood and how, despite their best efforts to drive the British away, failed to do so. Famine swept throughout the Xhosa people, taking the man’s siblings along with it. Samuel's stomach churned after remembering the sorrow in the man’s eyes. 

 

To make matters worse, they were at war with European settlers near the frontier region of Cape Colony. It proved difficult to get close to the area and so his visit was drastically shortened. 

 

The train suddenly stopped and announced the station they were in. Samuel saw people get up, carrying their luggage off with them. A man was helping a lady carry off her luggage before the train once again set in motion. 

 

After South Africa, he traveled to India. There he met another fellow journalist, he was from Great Britain, and seemed to be there more out of obligation rather than interest. The most distinctive memory about that place was the pungent odors of spices. It was by no means a bad smell, but rather one unlike he had ever experienced before. Along the streets he found merchants selling spices of all different colors, mainly red. 

 

However, there was unrest amongst the British in India and vice versa. The grease used for rifle cartridges originated from pig and cow fat. This, according to the journalist he met, violated the religious beliefs of Indians, which led to widespread rebellion all over the territory. Not to mention that the decrease in cotton exports from the United States made Great Britain increase production in Egypt and India alike.

The British, fearing to lose hold of India, called for tighter imperial control. As a response, Indian rebels formed the Indian National Congress just a year prior to Samuel’s visit. 

 

Samuel had asked his fellow reporter if he thought the British would ever let India go. At that, he pulled a laugh from the man, who responded with “The British Empire would lose too much. The crown will avoid ending up like the Ottomans.” 

 

Samuel was quickly pulled from his thoughts when the train stopped once more. 

 

“Philadelphia!” The conductor yelled out. 

Samuel got to his feet, recollecting his notes, and took his luggage with him. I’m home, he thought to himself. 

 

He walked through the streets he called home until reaching a small building just a few blocks from the center of the city. He knew he should rest,  but what he had compiled could not wait. He glanced at his watch: 4:12 PM. He figured his editor would not leave until 6, so he walked up the steps of the office until he reached the lobby. The secretary immediately beamed when she saw Samuel. 

 

“Mr. Evans! I hadn’t realized you would be back today.” The secretary said. 

 

“I had to cut my trip prematurely, but I’m glad to be back regardless Ms. Howard.” 

 

“You look like you just got off the train, why don’t you go home?” Ms. Howard remarked, gesturing to the luggage in his hand. 

 

“I would like to, but I must speak with Mr. Ross,” Samuel replied. Ms. Howard nodded in understanding and told him to wait in Mr. Ross’s office. She resumed her typing, the click click of the typewriter filling the office. 

 

Mr. Ross walked in carrying a stack of papers a few minutes later. Samuel quickly got up from the chair he had been sitting in a greeted Mr. Ross. 

 

“Good to have you back Sam,” Mr. Ross said once he settled into the chair opposite from Samuel’s. Mr. Ross’s desk had papers scattered all over. The ink jar on the edge of the desk was nearly empty as well. A wall of books decorated the wall behind Mr. Ross. 

 

“Yes, well, I’m not very fond of sea travel for extending periods of time.” Samuel said. Mr. Ross nodded, and opened his mouth to speak before he was cut off by Samuel. 

 

“I came here to discuss my travels.” 

 

“Don’t you think you should rest? We can talk about it tomorrow.” 

 

“But what I have to say is very important.” Mr. Ross looked at him and sighed. 

“Alright, what did you find?” Mr. Ross sat back into his chair watching as Samuel took out his notes and spread them across the desk. 

 

Samuel recapped his experiences from Europe to West Asia. Mr. Ross listened attentively at his stories, narrowing his eyes slightly at an uncomfortable fact. Then Samuel talked about his time in the Americas. 

 

“As you know, there was resistance against the Spanish, so I spoke to the elders about their version of the story. The Tarija War, as they called it, resulted in the formation of Argentina.”

 

“That was almost 50 years ago Sam. Don’t you think we should focus on more recent events?” Mr. Ross asked. 

 

“Becuase,” Samuel said a little too loud, “they British will keep looking to extract the resources from Latin America. I found out there’s silver. And if the British don’t get it someone else will.” 

 

“Then that should be us don’t you think?” 

 

Samuel frowned. He looked over at the rest of his notes and found a document. He turned it to face Mr. Ross. He took it and read the title. It seemed to be a land contract.

 

“What is this?” Mr. Ross asked.

 

“When President Jackson announced the Indian Removal Act in 1830, Indian tribes had to leave their homes, specifically the Cherokee Nation,” Samuel breathed in and continued. “We took their homes, despite the proof that they were willing to comply with us. And for what? The same reason they are looking at Latin America.”

 

Mr. Ross tried to speak, but Samuel interrupted again. “These people have written language and adopt farming methods too. It doesn’t matter if it happened 50 years ago! It's a pattern of destruction and violence!” Samuel threw his hands up, a frantic look in his eyes. 

 

“Samuel!” Mr. Ross yelled. The office went silent and even the typing of the keyboard had stopped. Samuel sat down. When did I stand up? He thought.

 

“If we publish this,” Mr. Ross began, “we are risking more than your career.” 

 

“So is this what progress is? Manifest Destiny?” Samuel grit out the last part. His eyes contained a rage that was threatening to burst. Mr. Ross looked at him solemnly, hand grasping the document of the Cherokee people.

 

“Yes,” Mr. Ross finally said. “Now, go home and rest. You had a long trip.” With that Samuel got up and gathered his things to leave. He stopped at the door in Mr. Ross’s office and looked back at him. Mr. Ross was quiet. Samuel scoffed and walked out into the street. The people walked by, ignorant to the suffering others experienced. Samuel breathed out and headed home. His aggressive stride signaled a man on a mission: He would make his findings known, one way or another.